Merlin and the Philosopher's Stone
by CtrlTHaT
Summary: So basically: imagine Merlin. And then imagine the HP world. It's pretty much Merlin going into the HP world as a "noob" and "mudblood" so naturally Malfoy isn't nice and blah blah blah. I am terrible at descriptions! This is the first bit of what I'm hoping will become a series of 7 stories (the 7 books :D) R&R if you love me :D. Oh and there may be romance later. Not sure.
1. Chapter 1

**Merlin and the Philosopher's Stone**

He'd always known he was different. It's like knowing your own hair colour, except this he couldn't change. The sparks that coursed beneath his pale skin separated him from the world around him and so on his 11th birthday he was less than surprised to find an owl on his letterbox.

His mother was, to put it delicately, less than pleased with the new white paint job the box got that morning, but on seeing the shimmering green ink on yellowed parchment, Hunith's agitation changed to a curious combination of nerves and excitement. It took a grand total of three days to organise everything.  
**Day 1:** **Packing**  
Merlin had always been terrible at packing; undeniably the worst packer that ever existed. To pack, Merlin and Hunith decided, first they must acquire all he needed and worry about sorting it later. This proved more difficult than initially expected as Merlin's father, who died when Merlin was young, was the magical parent and so finding their way to Diagon Alley was, least to say, an interesting experience. Once conquered through innumerable phone calls to his father side of the family, Merlin Emrys and his mother found their way to the arcade of stalls and shops.  
"Robe." Hunith said, after absorbing the _zooming_, _whizzing_ and _buzzing_ floating through the street.  
"What?" Merlin muttered, being pulled back to reality.  
"We need to get you a robe; for the year."  
"It's a year Ma, I think more than one."  
"Oh haha _Mer_lin. Always thought yourself funny eh?"  
"Quite." He murmured back, still not quite present in the conversation as his mother dragged him through the people and away from the brooms and twigs in a nearby stall-window.

Outside the shop, black, purple, green, (you name it) coloured robes lining the crystal-like shop window.  
"I'll grab your..." Hunith paused, glancing back down at the list in her hand, "…cauldron, worms roo…look, I'll grab you some of the stuff from the shops around and meet you back here in half an hour and we'll go to the book shop," and with this she pulled Merlin into a (semi-)reluctant embrace. Squirming free she grinned at him before turning back and being absorbed by the crowd. Quiet, shy and too confused, Merlin entered the shop behind him and immediately wished his Ma was there. The walls were lined with framed photographs (that moved!) of people he didn't recognise in brightly coloured robes and pointed hats, while the free wall was taken over by racks upon racks of robes (of all colours). In a corner in the front of the room, there stood three raised platforms about a meter squared and a huge wardrobe filled with pitch-black robes of different sizes. Swallowing, Merlin stepped forward, trying to catch the attention of the woman between the isles on the opposite side of the room as the platforms.  
"Erm…excuse me?" He murmured to the stale air. Peering back at him the rotund, cheery faced woman re-stowed the robes she was handling and came over.  
"Hogwarts?" She asked happily. A brief head nod and Merlin was swept to the platforms, his coat removed and with his hands pointing at opposing walls he stood like a cross while she measured him. "That's it dear. Won't be a minute." She said, skuttering to the wardrobe and entering it, being enveloped by the black fabric. Shocked Merlin simply stared at the space she was absorbed by when the bell rung above the door. His head snapped to the entry-way as a platinum blond boy walked in (actually, walked isn't the correct word, more like _arrogantly sachetted_) and strode up to a platform looking a cross between bored and merciless. The sneering boy turned on Merlin, seeing his nervousness and unfamiliarity.  
"Mudblood." The boy whispered, sending a penetrating glare at Merlin. Merlin, sure this was meant to be insulting, was completely and utterly confused and stared blankly ahead of him, waiting for the woman to come back with his robes. "You're not going to last." The boy continued. "Mudbloods'll be out of Hogwarts when Dumbledore is overrun. Mark my word, you won't last the year. As my father says…" The woman cut him off with her re-emergence into the room and the snarling boy looked forward again with a satisfied smirk.

"It's just being made, deary." The woman said passing Merlin and walking over to the other boy. Pausing half way over to him she diverted, heading to the wardrobe again. "What name was that again?"  
"Oh. Ummm…Merlin Emrys…" The two stared simply at him, the woman turning and chuckling warmly to herself while the boy continued staring.  
"Merlin Emrys. Hah…funny."  
"What is?" Merlin replied sharply, turning shyly to the boy.  
"That your name is Merlin. As in _Arthurian_ _Mer_lin and you're a filthy…"  
"Here you are dear." Said the woman re-appearing from the cupboard, "just try this one on shall we." And with a fond smile she slid his thin arms into the arms and hitched it up to his shoulders. Falling heavily against his neck, Merlin glanced at the mirror beside him, pleased.  
"It's a bit big around the body…hmmmm…ok then be back in a sec."  
"But it's a perfect fit.." Merlin protested shyly,  
"How sweet of you dear, but no, we'll make it a little snugger shall we. Aren't a big boy now, are you?" and with that she gently tugged the robe from Merlin and vanished behind the other robes before re-appearing and striding to the boy to measure him. Awkwardly, Merlin stood on the platform as the bell above the door dinged again and a small, black haired boy entered. Glancing past Merlin to the black robes around the room he looked as awkward as Merlin felt. While the boy's eyes flicked around the room, Merlin couldn't take his from the boy, so when his eyes found Merlin's, he was pierced by shocking emerald green biting Merlin's blue irises. Feeling the blush rush to his cheeks Merlin couldn't look away as the woman strode to the boy, leading him to the platform, the scar on his forehead glinting through his messy fringe.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

In that moment, Merlin couldn't tell what emotions he was feeling, but if someone asked him about his first meeting with Harry Potter, he'd say it was _interesting_. Feeling his heart jump just a little each time the boy's eyes landed on Merlin, he found he couldn't take his from the other boy. The woman was still shuffling around the room, in-and-out of the cupboard. One of the many occasions she was vacant from the room, the blond boy turned to the subject of Merlin's fascination and began speaking. His tone hushed but holding the same arrogance he simply exuded with each breath. The black haired boy looked slightly vacant and confused, as though, like Merlin, he wished someone was with him to tell him what to do. Merlin knew nothing about this world; less than nothing and so when he said that he felt a familiarity towards the unnameable boy with emerald eyes, he meant it fully.  
"Here you are dear," came a voice and Merlin jumped, so utterly absorbed in the boy beyond that'd he'd not noticed the woman appear beside him, holding his robe for him. Once again he shucked it onto his shoulders, the body wrapping snug around his middle. "Lovely." She muttered, sliding it from him and walking it to the, as of yet, untouched counter where she began folding it.  
"That'll be three galleons for the six." She said politely to Merlin.  
"Erm…" he mumbled, pulling the (small) pile of discoloured coins from his pockets and placing them on the desk.  
"It's the big gold ones sweetie." She continued, smiling kindly but obviously wanting her money. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks from the now obvious stares of the boys behind him, Merlin noticed that even with his pockets now empty but for his tube-ticket, he only had two big gold ones and the rest were copper and silver. "Hmmm…" the woman breathed. "You'll need another three sickles I'm afraid." She said, the smile barely wavering from her lips, only shrinking a little and becoming more sympathetic.  
"Oh erm…my Ma must have the rest," he began, feeling the pink in his cheeks intensify as he stared numbly at the coins on the bench, shifting them with his finger tips for something to break the impenetrable awkwardness that envelopes a room when someone has no way to pay for something.  
"Umm…which ones are sickles?" asked a voice over Merlin's shoulder. Turning, he saw the black haired boy standing over his shoulder, fiddling with coins in his pockets and pulling some silver, bronze and golden coins onto his open palm. He barely came up to Merlin's shoulder and staring down at his hand made him appear smaller, but Merlin couldn't look away.  
"The silver ones dear."  
"Oh OK." He said with a small smile, plucking three silver pieces from his palm and placing them on the table. Looking away from the boy, Merlin felt his cheeks go even hotter (if that was possible) as the woman accepted the money and he hurled himself from the room into the busy street. An ache began climbing through his ribs as he tried (unsuccessfully) to steady his heart and ease the guilt within.

"Merlin!" He heard over the bustle of people milling about. "Over here dear." His mother called again over the din, leading him to a sparse coffee shop (and by coffee, Merlin is experiencing the initial pangs of culture shock, coming face to face with a large metal tin with a tiny – _what looks like a dragon!_ – at its base blowing fire to boil the water.)  
"All done?" she asked, standing and placing her teacup – with a moving handle! – back to the table. "Wonderful here isn't it?" she continued as they forced their way through the crowd.  
"Mmmhmmm…" Merlin replied, as non-committal as he could be; the events of the past ten minutes circling through his mind: the boy entering, the boy _paying for his robes!_ Merlin had guessed, by the attitude of the woman, that three sickles wasn't much but the boy, seemingly as naïve as he, didn't know that and maybe the boy was flaunting the fact that he had money – and by the look of the coins in his hand _a lot _of it. Or maybe he was simply a good person, but, aside from his immediate family and a friend or two, Merlin hadn't experienced many _nice people_ in his eleven years so this was a difficult thought to hang onto.  
"OK, so honey, you're potions and quills and ink and things cost more than I expected, what with your wand still on the menu, which means that, yes we can _check out_ the book shop, but if you want to be able to _get_ to this school it can only be a small look. I'm really sorry Merlin. I know how much you wanted to-"  
"Hey, don't worry Ma! Checking them out will be just as good." Merlin cut her off with a smile.

Reaching the shop, Merlin's heart did this weird flutter thing where it sort of stopped before dropping and skittering away behind a shelf. _The boy was there_. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, a wave of engrossing, encompassing and awful embarrassment engulfed him as he was suddenly bombarded with images of how he fled the shop, not even saying thank you to the boy who'd helped him out.  
"Oh no." Merlin breathed as the boy turned and walked in his direction, not having seen him yet.  
"What is it sweetie? I thought you wanted to see-"  
"Yes! Yes I do!" Merlin fisted his now sweaty hands by his side, "could I meet you inside please, Ma?"  
"Oh ummm…yes. Sure thing darling." And with that Hunith hustled through the door and around the hoard of people. The boy was still getting closer, trailing his fingers over book spines set on trolleys against the shop windows.  
"Thank you." Merlin began, not quite remember closing the gap between the two boys.  
"What?" The other asked, dumbfounded and obviously pulled from a day dream.  
"Thank you. For spotting me the rest for my robes. I'll pay you back. I promise."  
"Oh…don't worry about it." The boy said kindly, sending Merlin a shocking smile; all teeth and happy.  
"I'm Merlin by the way. Is this your first year too?" Merlin began, not quite content with letting the conversation hang there.  
"Yeah it is. How did you guess?"  
"You looked about as scared as I felt back there." Merlin smiled sweetly, holding his hands together shyly.  
"Oh." Harry began.  
"There's nothing wrong with that! I just thought- Oh never mind." Merlin ranted uncomfortably before turning and shuffling briskly to the door.  
"Merlin?!" he heard from behind him. Turning back to face the boy he smiled awkwardly, "thanks, for the…erm…_thanks_…I'm Harry by the way. Nice meeting you." And with that Merlin was swept inside the shop, grinning wildly. _Harry. Nice to meet you too, Harry._


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

In comparison to that day, the rest of Merlin's holiday was supremely uneventful. With a combination of black haired boy's flashing through his dreams and meaningless words from blonds, mixed with extreme bouts of nerves regarding his impending magical education, it became an interestingly dull few weeks. Basically, Merlin felt _weird_. When the day came and the train was due, Merlin found he hadn't slept. At all. And so when the time came and the train departed Kings Cross, Merlin was a curious concoction of lethargy and excitement. On the train all of the compartments were full. Older students had met up with friends they hadn't seen for the summer and all the first years were either incredibly shy and dared not breathe too loud or arrogantly strutting the halls, embracing the freedom of leaving home. Merlin fit into neither of these categories, merely content on finding somewhere to sit for the hours to get to _school_, read a book and eat the sandwich his mum made him that morning. Having boarded from the back, Merlin squeezed through the tight halls, (older) student's casting spells and laughing loudly with each other, not noticing the small, pale, black haired first year carving through the throng. Having reached the front of the train (peeking into every second compartment for a spare seat) a half filled compartment sprung from the vacuum. _Finally_, Merlin thought impatiently, sliding the glass door wide enough for him to squeeze through.  
"Is it OK for me to stay in here? Everywhere else is full." He asked uncharacteristically shy. Glancing at the shiny faces around he noticed a girl with (HUGE) curly hair and two front teeth that poked out just enough for it to be cute, a (…rotund?) boy with his head beneath one of the bench-chairs, and a smallish boy with an Irish accent and hair that wouldn't quit.  
"Oh! Of course it's fine!" The girl practically squeaked, flashing pearly whites at Merlin. "I'm Hermione," she said, placing a hand on her chest, "this is Seamus," she said indicting to the boy with the hair, "and this is…ummm…this is…"  
"Neville," the other boy continued, emerging from beneath the chair.  
"Nice to meet you. I'm Merlin." He replied and the room went quiet but for The Boy Called Seamus's giggling.  
"So," Seamus began, "We have the All-Powerful Arthurian Merlin _and _Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived in our year. That's brilliant!"  
"The Boy Who What?" Merlin asked, his naivety regarding the Wizarding World increasingly evident.  
"Harry Potter. The _famous_ Harry Potter. The kid who defeated You Know Who years ago. And I heard on the platform that it's been ten years since You Know Who disappeared which means that this'll probably be his first year in Hogwarts too." At this Merlin had decided two things: firstly, Seamus talks. _A lot._ And secondly that if this was the Harry Potter Merlin had met in the Robe shop, he would avoid him at all costs. Infamy and popularity was something this kid had probably grown up with and Merlin had experienced the wrong end of enough sticks to know when to avoid the forest.  
"Has anyone seen my toad?" Neville asked, effectively changing the subject and allowing Merlin to relax…if slightly.


End file.
